about thirty houses, store and church
inclusive, and now when she saw the shining tresses which lay in such
profusion upon the pillow, her fingers tingled to their very tips,
while she involuntarily felt for her scissors! Very reverentially, as
if it were almost sacrilege, Jerry's broad palm was laid protectingly
upon the clustering ringlets, while he said, "No, Aunt Betsey, if she
dies for't, you shan't touch one of them; 'twould spile her hair, she
looks so pretty."

Slowly the long, fringed lids unclosed, and the brown eyes looked up so
gratefully at Jerry, that he beat a precipitate retreat, muttering to
himself that "he never could stand the gals, anyway, they made his
heart thump so!"

"Am I very sick, and can't I go on?" asked the young lady, attempting
to rise, but sinking back from extreme weakness.

"Considerable sick, I guess," answered the landlady, taking from a side
cupboard an immense decanter of camphor, and passing it toward the
stranger. "Considerable sick, and I wouldn't wonder if you had to lay
by a day or so. Will they be consarned about you to home, 'cause if
they be, my old man'll write."

"I have no home," was the sad answer, to which Aunt Betsey responded in
astonishment, "Hain't no home! Where does your marm live?"

"Mother is dead," said the girl, her tears dropping fast upon the
pillow.

Instinctively the landlady drew nearer to her, as she asked, "And your
pa--where is he?"

"I never saw him," said the girl, while her interrogator continued:
"Never saw your pa, and your marm is dead--poor child, what is your
name, and where did you come from?"

For a moment the stranger hesitated, and then thinking it better to
tell the truth at once, she replied, "My name is 'Lena. I lived with
my uncle a great many miles from here, but I wasn't happy. They did
not want me there, and I ran away. I am going to my cousin, but I'd
rather not tell where, so you will please not ask me."

There was something in her manner which silenced Aunt Betsey, who,
erelong, proposed that she should go upstairs and lie down on a nice
little bed, where she would be more quiet. But 'Lena refused, saying
she should feel better soon.

"Mebby, then, you'd eat a mouffle or two. We've got some roasted pork,
and Hetty'll warm over the gravy;" but 'Lena's stomach rebelled at the
very thought, seeing which, the landlady went back to the kitchen,
where she soon prepared a bowl of gruel, in spite of the discouragi